The Case of the Butter Knife
by Mao
Summary: someone is mercilessly killing... with a Butter Knife! havoc ensues and detective maxwell and his guests must find the killer...can they? maybe..., and yes, the g-boys are 'gay', so don't complain. this is humor...laugh!
1. Default Chapter

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The Case of the Butter Knife

I was in my sitting room...sitting. I was also awaiting the arrival of my guests, who would be arriving soon, that is unless they did not arrive. I was hoping that they would arrive, seeing as I was very bored in this huge house, the Scheisse House, which was left to me by a dear friend Sir Howard. It would have been okay but the Scheisse House came with three 'service' people to 'cater' to my needs. The cook, the maid, and the driver all made the house very much bad for me. The cook is angry constantly about nothing and is obsessed with his cat, Mrs. Schnook-ums, the maid is a whore who tries to seduce all of my guests, and my driver acts stereotypically gay and idolizes Christopher Lowell. Just then the maid walked in and announced that my guests had, in fact, chose to arrive.

'Miss Relena...'

"Yeah, what do you want Dick?" God, that bitch was asking for it...

'Why don't you show the guests to the dining room?'

"Why don't you just take them down?" -_-'

'You're the maid... you're supposed to do that for me...'

"What?"

'You're the maid, dammit.'

"Yeah..."

'So just take the damn guests to the damn dining room before I go Medieval on your ass!'

"Whatever, Dick..." Honestly... whatever brains the girl once owned must have been smashed out of her head with a brick. Hn... guess I'll go tend to the damn guests, at least I know Relena won't be able to seduce any of them... hehe... if she only knew they weren't into girls, she wouldn't bother, or maybe she would, she's dumb enough.

-

My four good friends were standing in the doorway as I came to the dining room. Mr. Yuy; deadly assassin, Mr. Barton; circus extraordinaire, Mr. Winner; owner of Earth, and Mr. Merquise, secret agent. Just then I saw a familiar blue hat poking out from behind Mr. Merquise. That damn little Driver Treize... he must have snuck out from the garage again. 

'Treize...what are you doing here? You're supposed to stay in your garage.'

"I'm tho thorry, Detective Maxwell, thir... but this oneths tho cute!" Gees, he's groping Mr. Merquise...no!...don't touch his ass... -_-'

'Treize! Go back to the garage! GO!'

"I'm tho thorry, sir... tho cute, tho cute..." -_-' I cannot stand that lisp any longer... hmm...the guests are looking at me strangely, must cover up, must seem manly...*cough*.

'So, how long did you guys have to ride the choo choo?' Oh damn, that was weak.

"Not too long." Mr. Winner said quietly.

'Ergh, let's just skip to dinner shall we?' I step over to the serving ledge. 'Cook Wufei! Is the dinner ready yet?' Out of the open space above the ledge, popped a face only a mother could love, or maybe Mrs. Schnook-ums.

"You want your fucking food, eh? You in such a fucking hurry all the time! You want your food in a hurry, come back to the fucking kitchen and make it your fucking self! Every fucking day, give me my fucking food, you not cooking my fucking food fast enough, what the hell are you fucking doing in that fucking kitchen... you want your fucking food?"

'Yes, actually, I do.'

"Alright... just give me a fucking minute." I sighed and turned to face my guests. I hated when Wufei yelled at me like that, I knew he had a whole shitload of bad cutlery hidden away somewhere. 

'Why don't we take our seats while the Cook is preparing our meal?' Everyone looked at me, worriedly, and slowly shuffled into their seats. I don't think that the night was starting off quite right yet...at least the dinner was arriving smoothly, so far. My guests uncovered their trays and were pleased the mac-and-cheese that stared back up at them. I was feeling pretty confident right about then. I uncovered my dish.

'Holy shit! It's... shit!'

"No, it's macaroni and cheese." Trowa answered.

'No! Look at my plate. I have shit on my plate!'

"Oh, yeah, that's shit."

"It looks like cat shit." observed Quatre.

"How can you tell?" asked Zechs.

"I lived in a home full of girls, I could recognize cat shit anywhere."

"It's fake shit." said Heero.

'What?'

"It's fake shit." he repeated.

"Oh," agreed Trowa, "he's right, it says 'MADE IN CHINA' on the side, right there." I picked it up. I squeezed it. It squeaked. It appeared to be fake plastic squeaky cat shit. Interesting. Fuck, someone had me on their shit list...


	2. -the plot slowly congeals-

The Case of the Butter Knife

- the plot slowly congeals -

Well, the dinner went smoothly after that, although my confidence as a host was all but eaten and later excreted. My guests had been kind enough to have each rationed out a portion of their meals so that I might be able to eat. Must recover my cool... but how? Meanwhile, I'd been wandering around my house and my guests were following with confused looks on their faces. I love to mess with their heads. v_v I turned quickly around, making Zechs jump and fall backwards on his ass. Really, for a spy, the guy sure got surprised easily. But anyways, I'd had an idea.

'How about a trip to the Tiki hut out back? You know, have a few drinks and what not...' Just nod and smile, nod and smile... good, they all nodded and some smiled. Manliness is retrieved. The Tiki hut was my pride and joy. Well, maybe not but the 'servants' usually didn't bother going out to it, thus leaving me in silence. Bliss, I tell you, bliss. But even so, I hung up garlic and crosses, plus I stashed away a gun with silver bullets in one of the drawers. Just in case... v_v Once everyone was situated about the hut, I broke out a couple of choice drinks. Yes, I had Surge, did you think I wouldn't be prepared?

'Any suggestions of activities?' I was getting slightly desperate for ideas, maybe I wasn't as prepared in that area...

"Russian Roulette." Heero said it like an order. Must try and slip past that one swiftly.

'I don't think I should use up my silver bullets... they're pretty damn expensive.' Ergh... he's glaring.

"I have ammunition and a gun."

'I'm sure you do... *cough* why don't we play that when were all feeling suicidal... I'm not in the mood to die yet.' Whew... was it getting warm in here or was it just Heero's glare penetrating my scull? -_-'

"Karaoke... perhaps?" Quatre was trying...

'No, I don't think we're drunk enough for that yet.'

"Are we drunk enough for anything?" That was Trowa... he had a point there. Freakin' A.

-

Well, I think we're drunk enough now for just about anything. It was interesting since I don't remember pulling out any drinks with any alcohol content whatsoever. It appeared that any carbonated liquid taken in mass could form itself into alcohol. I always did enjoy drunken conversation, though... Currently, we were playing 'You know...' also known as 'Hey, once I...'. But of course I did not know and I rarely did anything just once. It was Quatre's turn anyway.

"I once memorized a Karma Sutra book." Ah, the rest of the guests had that same glint in their eyes as I figured I had in mine.

'I didn't know you were so kinky...'

"Oh yeah," he blinked, "I still remember some of the positions. Braying Donkey, Braying Donkey While Putting The Bottom Of Your Right Foot In The Small Of Your Back, The Windmill... those were the days." Right, that last statement confused me a little. Trowa spoke up next.

"Once, back when I was in the circus, they outlawed fireworks from my colony. So there was this crazy guy that would come around with a small section of fold-up bleachers and would sell tickets to a firework show. But it turned out he was just giving the audience hallucinogenic drugs and firing his gun upwards."

"So what happened to the crazy guy?" Zechs asked.

"He accidentally shot himself during a show. The audience was too screwed up to even notice, so he bled to death."

'That's morbid...' Trowa just shrugged. O_o And then Heero said something shocking and amazing... but it was still kinda funny.

"You know, I have a Tamahome shrine under my bed." O.O Holy shit on a stick Batman! Then I thought about that for awhile...

'Don't we all...?' I looked around at my guests. They all nodded. Zechs broke the silence.

"I get turned on by showers." he stated. c_c

'Do you now?' 

"Yeah. I can't turn around suddenly or I'll break the glass." Man, we were really drunk... and now you see why drunken conversations are always so much fun. Someone then proceeded to suggest a game of Crisco Twister. I was considering the possibilities when a loud thump echoed through the hut. This was stimuli so we all trekked around to the side where the noise originated. Maid Relena was slumped up against the wall with a vicious gash on her throat.

'Holy crap... someone sliced open her aorta! She's bleeding all over my lawn!' It was a beautiful lawn.

"It's her jugular, you stupid ass." Heero informed me. Jugular, aorta, who the hell cares when blood is ruining the walls of your Tiki hut?

"That's a shame..." Quatre said.

'Why's that?'

"The blood's soaking in and now that you don't have a maid, you'll probably have to clean it yourself." I considered that. It would be hard to get the blood out of the bamboo cracks. 

"Wait, what's that?" Zechs had picked something up. "A knife."

'Not just any knife...' I said climactically. I coughed. My guests were looking at me strangely and expectantly while I stood there.

'What?' Quatre spoke up.

"You said 'Not just any knife' and just kinda died off there. Could you continue?" 

'Oh!' duh, 'Not just any knife, a butter knife!' I grabbed it from Zechs to inspect it, like I was supposed to, me being a detective and all.

"What are you doing!?" Zechs yelled, "You're getting you're fingerprints all over it! It's worthless evidence now!"

'Ergh... you were holding it...' Yeah, place the blame on someone else, that'll work.

"I'm wearing gloves." He retorted, waving one hand. Shit, I've been shot down.

'Sorry...' They all sigh. No one spoke for a bit.

"Is anyone bothered by this?" Trowa asked. We all agreed that we were, in fact, not the least bit disturbed by Relena's death. 

'Alright then, shall we go inside? It's too humid out here anyway.' I would just have to find something to do inside. So we trudged our asses back up to the Scheisse House.


End file.
